Painting Whispers
by Yamiyo.Darknight
Summary: Lovino manages to get one of his art pieces put up in an art gallery featuring mainly his brother's works. His brother, Feliciano, had convinced him to let him put one of his pieces up, on Lovino's condition that it wouldn't be under his name. He's certain that no one will love his work, but maybe there's a certain someone who will? Fail Summary, rated T to be safe cuz of Lovi.


**Hey guys! Sorry for the long hiatus that was rather unannounced. ;w; I've been super busy cuz of college shtuff and now I'm moving to Michigan! Woo. . . Lots of packing still left over so don't expect too much for awhile. I'm throwing this oneshot in while I'm busy so you guys have SOMETHING. And don't worry! Legend and Fairy Tales are Wrong have not been dropped. I'm still working on them so no worries. Just been very busy. I'll be posting a lot for Legend soon so look forward to that!**

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Painting Whispers

oOo

Twenty-year-old Lovino Vargas felt absolutely horrible at the moment. Why? You want to know? Well, **maybe** it was because he had one of his paintings hanging in an art gallery that featured mainly his brother's art.

Now, that doesn't sound bad does it? Normally, you would think that would be something good to have happen. Especially when you were an unknown artist who needed recognition from other people.

But no. That wasn't the case.

He didn't want his art out there in public. He didn't want it out there for everyone to criticize and make fun of. He wasn't the great artist that his brother was. He didn't have that natural talent that Feliciano did: the talent to make things beautiful and lifelike. He could hardly get something to look the way **he** wanted it to.

He couldn't paint the emotion he wanted to in his works. He wanted to show how he felt when he painted, but now he couldn't even find the inspiration to paint a single stroke of color on a canvas. His favorite things used to play as inspirational resources, but now he couldn't even find inspiration in music or nature, his other muses.

He still continued to sit in front of the square of white, staring blankly at it's rough surface. Feliciano, being the way he was, could have painted 10 or more of these canvases by now. But here he was, unable to do anything but lament at his inability to paint.

Feliciano had asked Lovino to let him put up one of his favorite pieces in the gallery. Of course, his first reaction was to explode at his brother that there was no way in hell he was going to exhibit his work only to be laughed and sneered at. Why would they want to see something from the "Great Feliciano's" **brother**?

His brother's reply was that no such thing would happen and that there was no certainty that something like that what happen. Perhaps there would be some people who would love Lovino's style and works.

The bickering went on or about an hour or so, resulting with Lovino finally breaking down and letting his brother have his way.

"Fine!" He'd said. "Hang up the stupid thing! But only if you put it up without having my name on it! I don't want others to know it was me!"

Reluctantly, Feliciano agreed. He knew there was no way he could convince Lovino otherwise. He still made Lovino promise to paint another piece while it was being shown so that others who liked his work could see more. Lovino grumbled about it but consented.

The painting was hung up that evening when the gallery was closed for the night. As promised, Lovino's name was not mentioned. Where the artist's name would be, only the peculiar word 'Anonymous' could be seen. There was no description or comment to be found for the work either. Just the title, _Painting Whispers_.

oOo

Twenty-three year old Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was absolutely ecstatic upon finding out his Art Appreciation class was going to a well-known art gallery. He couldn't remember what it was named, but he remembered the artist who ran the place was named Feliciano Vargas.

Upon arrival, each of the students were greeted by the artist himself. Everyone had been hoping to meet him, and now that they could, it was like a dream come true. He was kind and warm and didn't hesitate to answer any questions they had.

When they split up to go look around the gallery, Antonio felt excited to see all the work. As he spent a few minutes for each, he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed.

Now, don't get him wrong, it wasn't like he didn't **like** the pieces, but they didn't speak to him. They had a voice all right, but they didn't just **speak** to him. His friend had all made such a big deal over this artist, and he agreed that they all looked nice, but they didn't... They didn't just _connect_.

But that was when he found something that sent a jolt of awe and adoration. A painting of colors that swirled together to create a mix of calming yet vibrant hues that said so much. He didn't remember seeing this piece in the catalogue of all the works done by Vargas. But here it was, glowing with pride and practically shouting to be admired. It certainly didn't **look** professionally done, but it was beautiful all the same.

All he could do was stare and try to take it all in at once. There were so many things being said to him in those moments, that painting had so many things to say. In a flurry of wonder, Antonio scrambled to find the information on it.

_Painting Whispers_ by Anonymous.

So it **wasn't** by Feliciano Vargas? Why was this piece here then? But more importantly, who had made this beautiful work of art? And the title. . . More than _Painting Whispers_, it's more like Painting the Soul.

"I see you've found this work more interesting than the others?" A light voice asked curiously.

Antonio whirled around to see Feliciano standing there with his hands clasped together behind his back, smiling warmly. "A-ah... I'm sorry! It just caught my attention and I couldn't stop looking. So you really didn't paint this?"

"No," Feliciano replied, chuckling. "But I like this piece a lot too. It took a lot of work to convince the artist to let me show it to everyone here."

"You mean they didn't want others to see this?" Antonio asked, bewildered. "But it's so beautiful! There's so much in this piece! It speaks volumes of emotions! I feel so much more in connection with this one! Er... No offense."

"Doesn't it?" Feliciano smiled more brightly. "Yet they don't have any confidence in their work. I wanted I show them that there will people who like their work. Don't worry about it."

"Can you please tell me who did this?" Antonio asked, feeling desperate. "I'd love to meet them!"

Feliciano paused, uncertain. "Well, I'm not sure they want me to reveal their identity." He looked over his shoulder and an eyebrow raised. "I couldn't even convince them to come and see how they did today." 'But it looks like he's here anyways...' Feliciano smiled again, this time more coyly.

"I don't understand why...it's so beautiful." Antonio commented, pursing his lips.

"Well, maybe you should go tell him that." Feliciano chirped, apparently having changed his mind.

"Huh?"

Making Antonio turn around to face away from the painting, Feliciano gestured to a young male, looking much like the artist. "That's my brother. Lovino Vargas. He's the one who painted _Painting Whispers_. Go say hi but-"

Without any hesitation, the Spaniard was gone, leaving Feliciano there with his sentence unfinished. "I was gonna say to be careful since he doesn't like it when people get in his face..." The Italian sighed, scratching his hair. "Oh well!" He chirped. "I'm sure it'll all work out!"

oOo

Here he was, at the gallery. Feliciano had invited him here to see how his piece would be received, but Lovino had immediately declined the invitation because he knew that no one would like his work.

But here he was... Standing amongst the chattering crowd of people, feeling as awkward as ever. He didn't think anyone had taken the time of day to even glance at the painting. He didn't expect them to.

He didn't expect for anyone to like it even a little bit. Nor did he expect the sudden greeting of one of the guests.

"U-um, excuse me?"

Lovino glanced at the man in front of him with a slight glare, wondering what his idiot could want. "If you're looking for Feliciano, you're talking to the wrong guy, idiot."

The man looked surprised. No doubt, he'd thought that he was his brother. The man went back to whatever he was going to say with a shake of his head.

"Er, no. I was going to ask if your name is Lovino?" The man said. He flushed red suddenly, a sheepish expression showing on his face. "My name is Antonio, by the way. Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. Sorry for not introducing myself first."

Like he was going to bother remembering that name.

"Right... Antonio...Yes, my name is Lovino. What do you care?" The artist snapped briskly, crossing his arms.

The man jumped, startled, again. Could this guy get any weirder?

"Well, I wanted to meet you."

"Me?" Okay. This guy just got weirder.

"You painted _Painting Whispers_, didn't you?"

Lovino's face flushed a deep red and his green eyes widened. How had he found that out?! "Who told you that?!" He shrieked, causing more than a few heads to turn in their direction.

"W-well, your brother told me." Antonio squeaked, not having expected such a reaction.

"Why would he tell someone like you?!"

"Well... I came across your painting." Antonio mumbled.

"And were wondering why something as bad as that was hanging in a gallery of magnificent projects?" Lovino guessed bitterly.

"No." The Spaniard replied softly. "I wanted to know who did such a masterpiece. That painting is definitely my favorite, now. I really love your style."

That was the last thing Lovino expected to hear. Someone liked, no, **loved** his painting style? And he seemed to honestly mean it.

Was that his heart pounding?

"You...like my art?" Lovino asked, sounding almost shy. The tone was almost sadly surprised, tentative.

"I think your painting is amazing!" Antonio exclaimed excitedly, eager to get his opinions out. "It says so much to me! All the colors just tell a story of every emotion and they just mix together so well and it makes me feel like you were trying to get out your thoughts on that canvas and it was just amazing cuz I felt like I could connect so deeply with your painting! It's just amazing! And- and-" The chocolate-haired man had to stop and take in a deep breath. "Wow, there's just so much I could say about it. I can't even put it all into words".

Lovino was shocked. He'd come here not expecting so much as a comment of 'interesting', but he now had someone who was obviously very much in love with his work. And the energy he'd put into trying to compliment it; it was amazing. It was new. And it was wonderful. Maybe he'd bother to remember this guy's name after all.

"Well..." Lovino mumbled, completely taken aback. "I'm glad you like it..."

Antonio beamed.

"...cuz I'm never painting again. That's the only piece you're seeing from me."

That wasn't completely true. Feliciano had made him promise to do another piece to go along with _Painting Whispers_. Not that he'd be telling Antonio, as kind as he was being.

Emerald eyes saddened and Antonio's shoulders slumped. "You're not going to paint anymore?" He asked, sounding sadder than he probably should have. "Please don't say that! I'd really like to see more from you!" He clasped his hands together in a begging position and looked at Lovino pleadingly. "Please paint more! Please don't say you're going to stop."

Lovino scowled and turned away. "Look. The answer's no! I'm not doing it anymore! I just did this on a whim and I'm not gonna do it again. Now before you go on another tangent about how I need to continue, why don't you zip your lips and stick to wandering the gallery. Thank you for your...compliments. But I'm done here. Good bye Antonio."

No, he certainly wasn't regretting the fact that he was the one who'd caused that man to have such a sad face.

oOo

Antonio's group decide to visit the gallery again the next week. He thought it was an attempt for them to cheer a fellow student up, but being there didn't make him feel too happy.

He'd made Lovino upset, and worse yet, he couldn't convince the Italian to resume what was clearly his talent (or perhaps one of his many?).

He sighed as they walked into the gallery, feeling glum. His friends clapped him on the back and told him to cheer up while they had some lovely art around them. But what could make him feel better now that he was just so saddened?

He walked over to where _Painting Whispers_ was, only to look up and realize something else was there as well.

A new painting.

Eyes widening, Antonio took in the spectacular sight. Vivid red carnations and golden lilies bordered the edges of the canvas while the center was a mix of warm and fiery colors. The author was still labeled as 'Anonymous' but there was a title and a description to go with it.

_Painting my Heart _by Anonymous

"You'd better be grateful.

Bastard."

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**Fluff story inspired by a prompt and the want to do a cute oneshot. Comments and favs and stuff are appreciated. Flames and hating is not.**


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